


Paris - London

by Saki (Albione)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Nostalgia, Nothing much, Paris (City), Stars in the sky, but Feels, lots of feels, making love in the desert, thinking of trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albione/pseuds/Saki
Summary: Timmy is in Paris thinking of when he was in the desert with Armie. Armie is in London, so near, so far.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Paris - London

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing the French Honeybadger, but I am stuck with Timmy cornering Armie in the shower, so there will be a next chapter, have faith my readers. This came into my head and I had to write it. A small work on nostalgia, quickly written down.  
> As usual, this is all the fruit of my imagination that I would like to be true...

“Ok, here we go!” 

He opens the window and slowly films his feet, the small balcony, the buildings in front and the Eiffel tower in the distance. 

Stop.

Post.

He flops onto the large bed, bouncing slightly.

Looking up at the ceiling he thinks of Pauline.

“Why go to a hotel Tim? You can stay here, much more private…”

Her flat is small, but warm, a home, not cold luxury that is the same in every city. 

Impersonal.

“Don’t want to cause trouble…” He mumbled, he always tends to mumble when lying, words not quite wanting to leave his lips and expose the untruths. 

But he is getting better at it.

She raised her eyebrows, sometimes the two of them are so similar he thinks he is looking into a mirror; the mirror of might have been.

If he'd been born a woman… things would have been different, easier…

“But then I might have not met him…” The thought is unbearable.

Pauline never asks questions, she is patient and knows he will tell her when he can. When he can bear to place each thought in order and fabricate words that can sort of explain.

But you cannot explain the beats of a heart, the nostalgia that grips you and squeezes every ounce of breath. 

Poets can, but he is not a poet.

“Timo, my love, you can stay here! Look, there is room! I am so glad to see you!” 

Haider crushed him into an embrace. He felt like crying, he needed affection. He craved it.

“Thanks, but I will stay at a hotel, it is easier…” This time no mumbling, it wasn't quite a lie.

Haider studied him, he could feel the dark eyes searching his soul.

Haider knows, he knows how the best work emerges from pain.

“Not easier Timo, is it? Just necessary…”

Timmy nods. 

Easier.

Such a simple word, but all words are simple, but the weight they carry is not simple, it can be crushing.

The phone rings.

He picks it up and smiles.

“So, you are in Paris? I mean, Paris Paris, not any other Paris?”

There is laughter in the voice.

“Well, I wanted to make sure. After all if not posing in front of McDonalds is enough…”

He runs a hand over his curls, wilder by the day.

“Tim, turn the camera on…” The voice gets much lower.

“Armie, I can’t…” 

“Why?” There is puzzlement, a real question. 

“Because it will break me. Your voice is enough.”

Silence. 

Sometimes silence is comfort, it gives time to unscramble emotions, find the essence and hold on to it.

“Tim, I’m sorry, if only I could…”

“No, it’s not your fault, not mine either. Just… Everything seems so big, overwhelming.” 

Since the trailer the anxiety has grown, there is so much at stake that his life had to take the backseat. Again.

“You are great, I was blown away by how much you ARE Paul, whatever happens it is not on your shoulders. Believe me.” 

Believe me. 

He did, always had.

But now he had to believe himself. 

That was the problem.

He nodded, forgetting that Armie would not see him. He giggled.

“Sorry, I know that I did what I could and it is out of my hands, sort of…”

Sort of. 

“Look, after Cabo they really cannot expect you to do anything else. I thought that they had an agreement with Zendaya for both of you to play along, being buddies and making people guess.”

“Yes, that’s sorted, but what they made you do… Armie I am so sorry!”

“We talked about it, I was ok with it and it’s for me as much as it is for you.”

Every time Armie’s voice soothed him, there was something so primal in his reaction to it. Each vowel curled around him, the tone was honey, warm and dense.

“Anyway, I pissed off Evelyn by going overboard, three in a week beats Leo’s record,, she might back off for a bit.”

They both laughed, the sound meeting and mingling.

Comfort.

They said goodbye. Timmy felt restless and walked back to the balcony.

You cannot see the stars in cities. La Ville Lumiere was no patch to the desert.

The sky was a canopy filled with stars. He and Armie embraced and looked up.

“Some stars are so far away that by the time their light reaches us they have died…”

Armie did not look at him but tightened his grip on him.

“But that means that there are new stars that have not reached us yet…” Timmy turned and looked at the man he loved so much.

The air was cool after the heat of the day, Timmy shivered even if he was swaddled by Armie’s sweater. The grey one.

“True. I wonder how many there are, how many new lights will there be and if we will see them…” Armie kissed the top of his head. 

Timmy nuzzled him, wanting to breath him in.

Kissing, rolling on the large checked blanket on the ground.

Timmy on top, rubbing his hands against Armie’s skin, feeling the warmth and the hairs on his chest.

Armie pulling off the sweater and t-shirt.

“I’m cold…” Timmy muttered against Armie’s lips.

“I will warm you up!” was the smiling reply.

The last time they had kissed in the open was under the warm sun on the grass in Crema.

Now under the stars on the sand in the desert.

Hidden, like the years between these two moments.

There is no silence in the desert, but they added to the sounds; gasps and moans.

He opened himself and Armie pushed inside him.

As they were one Timmy looked up and wondered when his light would arrive to earth.

He cried out as he came, on the bed in Paris, holding his cock, all alone in the room. 

He could feel Armie in him, pulsing and moving, but it was a ghostly feeling. 

Raising his hand towards the ceiling light he tried to grab something. Anything to keep the ghost with him.

<Miss you> he texted before turning out the lights and trying to sleep.

<We saw each other last week! Love you> Was the immediate reply.

He wondered why he felt the strongest nostalgia just as he left him. 

Probably the ghosts were stronger. The lingering scent in his nostrils was still there. The taste still fresh.

Then they slowly evaporated till the next meeting.

As he left the hotel the next morning the crowd of young fans moved towards him. As planned.

He stopped and posed for photos and signed autographs.

He kept his mask on, it hid his expression. Automatic smile underneath.

He was in Paris.

In Paris.

La movie star.

Light arriving on earth.

“We are made of stardust, everything around us is…” 

Timmy’s head was resting on Armie’s chest, he could feel the words rumble against his cheek.

“Think, millions of years ago the death of a star created us. All this around us, me and you..” 

Timmy felt Armie run his fingers through his curls. “I could die now and be happy” he thought. 

Timmy smiled and posed, the clicks of phone cameras filling his ears. He hardly registered what was being said to him. 

They weren’t talking to him but to Timothée Chalamet the star, the beautiful boy, the internet meme. 

A few selected people talked to him, the real him. There was only one person who talked to what he was becoming, the form in evolution.

In the car he texted Nicole <Is this enough?> and looked at the streets passing by.

A couple of meetings, an interview, the usual stuff awaited him. 

But he had to be seen in Paris in case Armie was seen in London. Armie doing the same things, meetings, interviews, but in a different city.

Gare du Nord was visible in the distance. Two hours to London. 

Paris London, just two hours. What was two hours in the balance of his life? A fraction, so small that it could be forgotten. 

But to see him just for a second, to share the same air, the same space… it could never be forgotten.

He was as pleasant as usual, nervous, courteous, smiling and bright. All loved him, the day went well.

“What’s wrong?” Pauline asked at dinner. He pushed his food around the plate and did not look up.

“Nothing” he mumbled, not daring to look at her, knowing that she could read him.

She quietly placed her hand over his “Is it worth all this?”

“Him?” The surprise makes him look up.

“Silly, the career…” 

He doesn't answer, he cannot.

“I love watching you shine Tim… it makes me proud! You are a star.” 

Armie is cradling Timmy as a sacred icon, afraid to blemish it in any way.

Something is rustling in the distance, the air is cold and they are both in the same sleeping bag, tightly together.

Above the black sky is full of stars.

“But they only shine in the dark... “

“Silly, they are there during the day, but people don’t notice them.”

They kiss, trying to blend, to capture the essence of each other.

Back in the hotel room Timmy reads Nicole’s text.

<Wait till Armie is back in LA>

He throws the phone away. 

Through the window he looks at the roofs and calculates where the Garde du Nord is. 

Paris - London, two hours, two men in love.

But those two hours could be two millenia, because he can’t, he can’t risk it. 

Too many people count on him.

Not now, in two years who knows.

<I miss you…> Timmy sends the text quickly before thinking better of it.

<We will meet soon>

<But I miss you too>

Timmy reads Armie’s answers and smiles.

You cannot see the stars in big cities, but they are there hidden by brighter lights; the same stars between Paris - London.


End file.
